🎁 Pokèworld equivalent of the Millennium Prize Problems book, a pair of groucho glasses, notepad and pen.
Send me a 🎁 + an object for my muse’s reaction to being gifted that object.
Gift #1:
Roxanne can only mutter a quick ‘I’ll be right back’, moments before dashing to her residence, locking the doors, and disappearing for several weeks on end (it’s not the money that serves as motivation, unsurprisingly).
Gift #2:
“What... a peculiar accessory.” She nods in acceptance, but ends up passing it along to Pupitar, who dons them while participating in the world’s most curious staring contest against Nosepass (guess who wins by default).
Gift #3:
“Marvelous, and just as I was nearing the end of this one,” she withdrawals perhaps the most tattered journal in existence, stuffed to the brim with papers and letters and Arceus-knows what else. “Now, it may be wise for me to transcribe these notations into this new organizer. But, and perhaps this is asking a bit much, would you mind signing the front page prior? For sentiments sake.”
Lena would always consider Alola the perfect vacation region. She hadn’t yet gone there as part of a tour, and although her music played on some channels, she wasn’t as well known as compared to other places. So when she had the opportunity to take some time off, she knew she wanted to visit Alola’s warm beaches.
The first thing she did after putting her items in her hotel room was go straight to the beach. She was happy to be going, maybe even excited! Her hair looked great, she had her newest swimsuit on, new glasses, and a ton of sunscreen on so she. felt. good.
She should have expected something would happen. Of course something happened, something always happens.
It all started when someone spilled soda on her swimsuit. Thank Arceus it was a clear soda, but that didn’t help the stickiness that remained. Because of that, she had to go into the water earlier than she had planned to try to wash out the soda. It washed out, but an unexpected wave came and messed up her hair. She went to the nearest bathroom to fix it and all the pre-placed beach chairs were in use when she came out. She tried laying on her towel, but sand kept blowing on her and her towel kept blowing on top of her.
She was finally able to get a reclining chair and was happy to be able to relax. That would make everything better. She could pretend nothing bad happened and just enjoy the warm sun on her skin. But then her final straw snapped.
A large pokemon blocked her view. She took off her sunglasses, glaring at the large Blastoise standing directly in front of her chair, blocking her light. Fuming, Lena stood, walking towards a man who was looking at said pokemon.
She tapped him on the shoulder, placing her hands on her hips afterwards. “Hey man, is that yours? Because he’s kinda blocking my sun.”
buuuut. some three songs in particularly i associate him w/ would be:
blinding by florence + the machine
this song rlly reminds me of how he kinda. perceives the world? also it’s just a fun bop to listen to over and over!
the sore feet song by ally kerr
this is the op from mushishi and that series is always so... feels-good and aesthetically pleasing, plus ginko (the mc who’s like... always having to wander bc of his innate abilities) and his involvement with the titular mystical beings gives me quite a bit of gen inspiration! plus the song itself is just... really sweet and nice to listen to.
o death by kate mann
this song also gets me in a mood for writing gen... not quite sure why, but something about it just reminds me of him? and specifically his past life as ayumu/sir aaron;;
It was easy to lose track of many things in Celadon’s infamous Game Corner: time, money, even your sanity. It was the thrill of the hunt. The “If you don’t play you don’t win” mentality....It was the Dratini that you could purchase for a mere 5400 game coins.
Green was sold. Why go fishing when he could burn through money and brag about it?
The gambling eleven year old - who had sandwiched himself between two much older slot players - was unfortunately the least troubling issue at hand. The spot was long rumored to be a front for Team Rocket’s operations, and it was easy to see why. The Game Corner was busy at all hours, It would be impossible to keep track of who was coming and going. A perfect cover.
And like most civilians, the boy was utterly unaware, too focused on the task at hand. For what could have been the hundredth time Green cranks the lever, jaded eyes watching pensively as the reels begin to whirl, his machine adding to the dizzying mix of sounds.
7 - 7 - Pikachu.
Close but no cigar. With an exaggerated groan/eye-roll combo the trainer’s shoulders slump forward in defeat. “This place is SO rigged.” He kicks the machine, garnering a stern look from the gambler beside him. Jeesh. Time to move on. He scans the bustling room hoping for an open machine - instead? He sees red. Literally.
Pft it was so like Red to follow him in here, always chasing his coattails..was he waiting for a turn? Green slides off his stool, slowly approaching his friend turned rival with mild interest. What was so interesting back here anyway?
“Hey Genius! You ain’t gonna win anything by staring at the wall.” His tone is flat, arms crossed, a stance he had literally perfected in the mirror at home. All part of his newfound ‘cool guy’ persona. As if he wasn’t even slightly excited to see the other Pallet native. “What are you doing here anyway? You realize gambling is a winner’s game - right?”
The surrounding areas of the Sinjoh Ruins are still, and remain so, despite the tiny activity of the native Pokemon who’ve made home along the cliffsides.
Her mission isn’t clear — what is, is the encrypted message informing her to appear, promptly, at the location thus notated. Sinjoh is situated farther north than any known civilization, and doesn’t quite count as such itself; frozen within time, the ruins lay dormant in the harshest of mountain ranges, a primordial hotbed for mythical activity.
This would all be quite entertaining... for the appropriate individual. Roxanne’s specialty is geoarcheology, not anthropology, and most certainly not theology. Myths are cute as bedtime stories, but serve her little in real world affairs. Why the Pokemon League would enlist her services for this assignment is beyond the donnish brunette, and she’s arrived with far more questions than she fancies having.
What exactly is this assignment, and why does such secrecy surround it?
And, more pressingly, how has she ended up the sole proprietor of the cabin, waiting for the final member of this “team”, while the rest of the crew has already entered the ruins?
“Punctuality is key,” she bites aloud, squinting with a sharpness through the cabin window. Snow is piling up rapidly, obscuring her view and sending her through even more of a fit. Nosepass remains stationary in front of the fire, immovable. “The League seems to have a sense of humor about them, pairing me with what I may only assume to be an amateur...”
The cabin’s door comes barreling open, at long last, sending a few crystalline flurries in before a figure follows. “You’ve had me waiting for nearly an hour,” she scolds, arms crossed and brows sharp. “I’m honestly surprised you were able to locate this cabin amidst that blizzard,” she bows briefly, out of customary habit.
“I was informed that I’m to accompany you into the ruins - my name is Roxanne, of Rustboro. It is a pleasure.”
Dawn closes in on Red’s knee, the boy propped up against the side of the precipice—slight pangs, gasps for air, but no other true sign of stress in his generally-cool demeanor. She’s relieved he still has plenty of color in his cheeks, despite the rips in clothing and brief scare following the lightning-quick tumble. Tough as ever, he is.
Mentions of man-eating monsters may have been enough to prompt the adventurous twosome towards the frigid crater northeast of Lacunosa; but, that act-before-you-think impulse proved too tempting to quell. Now, he’s got a gash the size of Cinnabar, and what could possibly be a few broken bones to boot… Quite the predicament when huddled, ledge-side, over what appears to be a bottomless pit, a narrow mantleshelf being the only means towards the mouth that lies between them and that of the outer worlds.
There are (reasonable!) reasons the people of Lacunosa avoid the Giant Chasm, the foreboding crater seemingly existing as if only to devour any and everything that nears it. The Absol along the foggy route were certainly a warning sign, if any —one the daredevils failed to yield. After all, they’ve encountered far worse together, right? …Right??
‘This looks really bad,’ she acts accordingly, quickly, reaching for the small kit of remedial aide she (quite luckily) hadn’t left behind. The contents— or, lack there of — return a bit of horror to her already-flushed expression. There are only… bandages? Terrific. Panic ensues, her blood pressure lowering, and she can feel a light, cold sweat overcoming her frame. If only they hadn’t been so careless as to venture in without the proper Pokémon assistance. Truly, a fool’s errand.
But, an audience they’ve seemed to have gathered. Dawn peeks up, a gaggle of Clefairy eyeing the two curiously from behind an overhang. The twinkling, extraterrestrial inhabitants seem to have taken interest, possibly registering the situation as one that could utilize an extra pinch of magic, the two humans’ auras nonthreatening enough to allow such assistance. Before Dawn can even blink, a cascade of glittering dust-like material falls upon both herself and her male companion, Red making a slight hiss as it lands upon his skin.
Miraculously enough, the gushing wound begins closing, healing, repairing itself before their very eyes. Redness fades from the impacted area, leaving the boy’s knee lightly bruised, but nowhere near as battered as once before. Sinnoh’s Champ cannot help but to grin, wide as can be, looking back up along the cliffside while Red regains a bit of his composure, his soft grunts echoing against cavern walls. The beings Dawn’s eager to thank have now but vanished, remnants of fairy-dust left in their wake.
“Woah…”
Quickly completing the job, she bandages his knee tightly, wiping beads of sweat from the boy’s forehead before beginning to muster enough energy within herself. “Here, I gotta idea.” Without objection— not that there’d be any, under such circumstance — Dawn heaves the boy’s body behind her own, securing his thighs with her forearms and elbows (wobbly, as all get out) and hoisting him onto her back.
“Now… up we go,” Dawn’s voice cracks, only slightly, feeling a singular jolt of invigoration she can only be sure is the lingering work of the Clefairy. With her grip resound and her balance restored, she begins shuffling the two along the ridge, eyes picking up the quickest blur of pink from across the blackness of the abyss below.
"Oh yeah, and lunch for me includes my pokémon too."
❈ prompt
“Dang, hit me over the head, why don’t you…” Still, all in jest. Making sure their tip-top teams stay in tip-top shape is definitely up on the list of to-do’s; Dawn only hopes that Snorlax isn’t tagging along on this excursion…
“Maybe we can try that new pokémon-friendly place in Castelia, y’know, the one with the playground? Before heading to Nimbasa, of course. Gotta keep our energy up if we’re going to do the new coaster, the Whirlipede. Did you see that clip on Pokétube, the one with the woman fainting in line? Talk about a reaction... has to be fake. She’ll be on Helen Degeneres before long, mark my words.”
"Dare ya to buy me lunch." Why waste a dare on anything else?
❈ prompt
“Well, isn’t that typical,” she retorts with jest, fishing for her wallet and counting over those Pokédollars; bouts of late-night splurging aside, she should have more than enough to cover them both, several times over. At any restaurant. Still, it’s the fact of the matter.
“Looks like I’ve got us for lunch... if you can cover the movie tickets later? My pick, obviously—that new one starring Sabrina looks really sick... Oh! And!! I’ve been dying to check out this new ride in Nimbasa... C’mon, don’t make that face. Look at all those loops and turns and—”
